Tiff: Fuck that plan. Come to the bar. Dress very sexy.
Immediately, I knew she was trying to set me up.
Me: Sorry, can’t. Tonight’s the night I’m having dinner with the president.
In a word, she leaves no room for argument.
Tiff; Reschedule
I groaned to myself, knowing I was going to give in. As comfortable as I was, getting dressed up always boosted my confidence, and frankly, I could use some of that today.
Me: Fine. Be there in 15.
As quickly as I could, I freshened up, skipping the shower in favor of a quick spritz of my favorite perfume. I slipped on the only lace underwear I owned and pulled out a comfortable sleeveless turtleneck dress that hit me mid-calf.
It wasn’t what Tiff would call sexy, but it was soft and loose, and I felt good in it. It went back into the wardrobe a minute later when I read Tiff’s next message.
Tiff: Put that damn black turtleneck back and wear the slutty red mini I got you for your birthday. Then get your ass here. QUICK.
After slipping into the strappy red dress, I grabbed my purse and headed out the door.
When I arrived, I found the bar predictably quiet. It was only eight p.m. on a Tuesday, after all. A handful of people were scattered around, tucked away in the private booths along the back wall. The main bar was empty save a single man talking politely to Tiff as I approached. His back was turned to me, and the breadth of his shoulders feeling vaguely familiar. He appeared to be my age, with a clean-cut look and sandy blond hair.
I walked to a chair farther down the bar, but Tiff turned her head and motioned to the seat next to him. “It’s easier if you sit here, gorgeous.” She was using her customer voice, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Easier, my ass.
Hiding the roll of my eyes behind closed lids, I took the seat next to him and hoped to God I looked casual doing it.
Tiff began mixing me a drink, and I became acutely aware of two things: one, the man beside me smelled incredibly good; smoky and sweet, like a vanilla pod held over a flame; and two, how intimately close we were sitting, making my nerves spike.
I chanced a look at him without fully turning my head. Even from this odd angle, I could tell his looks went beyond just conventionally attractive. Both his sleeves were pushed up, and I cast my eyes down to where his bare forearms were leaning on the bar next to me before tamping down the desire I felt as I admired the strength of his hands. There was a vein flowing from his wrist that I was itching to trace.
Suddenly, I was self-conscious. Tiff’s intentions might be good, but even I knew when I was out of my league.
Before he could notice me looking at him, I focused on the drink Tiff had placed in front of me. Crushed ice filled the glass, surrounded by a mottled brown concoction. Of all the things Tiff had put in front of me, this ranked low on the display factor.
My nose wrinkled. “That might be ... the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
One delicately arched brow was raised as Tiff slid the drink closer to me. “Well, you can shut the fuck up because it tastes amazing.”
Next to me, the man tried to cover up his laugh with a cough, and I had to stop myself from instinctually turning to him, like a moth to a flame. “The last time you said that, I regretted it.”
Tentatively I brought the glass to my nose for an experimental sniff and had to admit I was pleasantly surprised. “Mmm, is that cinnamon?”
She hummed her acknowledgment. “And star anise. It really offsets the gin.”
Immediately, I put the drink down and eyed Tiff. “You know how I feel about gin.”
From beside me, the man spoke, and there was a teasing note to his voice. “And how is that?”
We both turned towards him. Thankfully, Tiff answered his question. I was too lost in my first direct look at him. Handsome didn’t even begin to cover it. Gorgeous, maybe? Beautiful, definitely. The basics registered somewhere in the back of my mind, but it was his eyes that mesmerized me. They were small but kind, emanating warmth and sparkling with undisguised humor. Bright, bold, expressive. So damn expressive. Devilish even. They shined as he met my gaze.
“She can’t stand it.” Tiff reached forward and moved the drink over to him. “You look like an adventurous man. Care to try something sweet and spicy?” I somehow held back my groan.
Holding my gaze, he took the offered drink and raised the coupe to his lips, giving a small nod to both of us. “Cheers”
His mouth was plush and pink as a fresh rose, like a shade of Mac lipstick I was sure I owned but hadn’t worn in years.
